Concerning Sally

by William John Hopkins

Sally's efforts were not enough to induce Charlie to spend his vacation slaving in an office. Every one might not call the occupation of Horry and Ollie slaving. Sally mildly suggested that view of the matter.

"If I owned some stock in it, the matter would have a different aspect, no doubt," Charlie replied sarcastically. "As it is, I should be nothing but a clerk."

He was lucky to have the chance to start with that, Sally pointed out. It was possible that he was not fitted to be more than office boy.

With this shot, which may have been unduly hard upon Charlie, Sally turned away. Charlie, at any rate, thought it unduly hard, and felt much injured. Sally was always hard on him; unfair. What could she know against him? And, having procured a horse at a livery stable,—the liveliest young horse they had, with the most stylish rig, which, by the way, Sally would have the privilege of paying for,—Charlie took his way out to Doctor Sanderson's to see Patty and to be consoled and, incidentally, with the secret hope that Patty had a few dollars to spare for a deserving and much misunderstood boy. For Patty managed to save up a few dollars for that purpose now and then, although Dick had greatly curtailed her sources of supply. No, they were his sources of supply which had been curtailed by Dick, Charlie said to himself. Damn Dick anyway! What right had he to do such a thing? Where should he, Charlie, get money in time of need? Where should he, indeed? Damn Dick! And Charlie gave the lively young horse a cut with the whip, as if the horse were responsible. The lively young horse resented cuts with the whip and proceeded to run; which gave Charlie so much occupation that he forgot, for the moment, about Dick.

Charlie was getting more and more into the habit of getting rigs at the livery stable, as the summer went on,—rigs which were invariably charged to Sally, she having made no objection to previous charges of a like nature—and of going out to see Patty. Doctor Sanderson's place was so indecently far out anyway that you had to have a horse or an automobile. He couldn't be expected to walk it, and, of course, he had to see Patty occasionally. You wouldn't have him so ungrateful as not to go to see her at all, would you? He supposed Sally would have to pay for the rigs, for he hadn't any of Uncle John's money, had he? The fact that this was not strictly true did not seem to occur to him; and the fact that Patty had put the stout horse at his disposal made no difference, so far as the livery stable was concerned. They—meaning Sally—might consider themselves lucky that he did not get an automobile to make the journey of two miles and a half. He couldn't be expected to drive a horse that was thirty years old and was only fit for the bone-yard, now, could he? You could make it in five minutes with an auto and he thought that they—meaning Sally again—might save money if he did get one. Of course he wasn't going to. He would defer to their absurd prejudice on that point. And more to the same effect.

It was no wonder that Sally turned away without speaking. She was afraid to answer; afraid of what she might be led to say. And she would go down to the office and sit looking out of the window and wondering what was to become of Charlie and what she could do about it; wondering what it was that he did in college that it seemed to have such an unfortunate influence on him; wondering whether it would not be better for him, after all, to come out and be made to go to work. She almost decided that it would. Then she remembered that she had not the only word to say about that. There were others who would have something to say and the attempt would raise a storm. Sally was not afraid of storms, but—well—and she would look up to find Horry staring at her as if he wanted to tell her something.

"What is it, Horry?" she would ask, smiling.

Horry would be distinctly embarrassed. He always was: and he always made the same reply. "N—no—noth—th-thing, S—S—Sally," he would say, with a sigh. "I—i—it's n—n—noth—th—thing, o—only I h—h—hate t—to s—s—see you s—so b—b—both—thered ab—b—b—bout an—n—nyth—th—thing. Ch—er—n—n—nob—body's wo—worth it."

That was as much as she could get out of him, although, to tell the truth, she did not try very hard. She only asked her question for his sake, he seemed to want so much to tell something. It did not occur to her that what Horry wanted to say he wanted to say for her sake; and it was for her sake that he did not say it, although it trembled on the very tip of his tongue. Perhaps it trembled too much. Perhaps, if he had found speaking an easier matter, he would have told what he seemed to be on the point of telling.

Toward the last of August, Henrietta and Dick came back. Henrietta, of course, did not have much time, but she did manage to come and see Sally at the office, one afternoon, on which occasion she completely upset the business of John Hazen, Inc., and all the members of the firm, both present and prospective, fluttered about her and gave her their undivided attention. Naturally, this state of affairs pleased Henrietta, but it embarrassed her, too, for you can't—or a girl who has been recently married can't—speak out freely concerning the secrets which burden her bosom before two unmarried young fellows,—not that the fact of their being unmarried made any difference, of course,—but before two young fellows whom she had never seen before in her life. But Henrietta made an effort to see Sally alone, and on the occasion of that effort, which was successful, she talked a steady stream about Dick, to all of which Sally assented with a smile and with as much enthusiasm as even Henrietta could wish.